Series: VOY
Codes: C/P
Rating: NC17
Categories: Mystery/Thriller thing, First Time.

Disclaimer: These characters and Star Trek Voyager are not mine. I just borrowed them and am not writing for profit.

Warnings: There's some squicky bits with blood and some implied dub-cons sex. Also graphic descriptions of m/m sex.

Author's Note: Originally written in 2000.


Prey - Chapter 1


He moved stealthily through the halls of the ship, his Prey ever before him. He was careful, the hour was late and the halls empty, and it was important that his Prey not become aware of his presence. It was not the right Time.

He hoped the Time would come soon. The need was growing upon him. Following his Prey, watching his prey, was no longer the complete satisfaction it had been in the past. He wanted more than this now.

His Prey halted to speak to another; and he pressed himself against the wall around a corner and listened. He closed his eyes, hearing the soft voice of his Prey, the light laughing response to the words of the other. He licked his lips, still listening, and allowed his mind to imagine the moment that would soon come.

The Knife was ready. He had found it in his quarters a week ago. That was how he had known the Time was coming. The Knife had been sent to him for a purpose.

He had only handled the Knife once, before putting it in a special place. He had delighted in its feel; the feeling of anticipation handling it had given him had been... powerful. He imagined it in his hand now, the heavy weight of the carved, dark wood handle, the perfect balance of the long, gleaming blade. When he had found the Knife, he had run one finger gently along the edge and then sucked the blood from the cut made. Then, he'd hidden it away. He would not touch the Knife again until it was Time.

The hallway was silent now and he realized his Prey had moved on. He no longer felt the need to follow and watch; he was content to remain against the wall, eyes closed.

He wanted to imagine the moment, the moment when he would take the Knife again, and hold it against the skin of his Prey, pressing gently. A heavy burning sensation surged in his gut. He felt... aroused. He could feel his hot hardness pressing forward and then heard the soft hiss of his own breath escape through his clenched teeth.

In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, the face of his Prey stared back at him. He concentrated on the features of the face; he was not yet ready to meet the expression of those eyes. Again he was holding the Knife, and feeling the exquisite pleasure as he traced the point along the lines of the tattoo that marked the face of his Prey. The black lines welled into red and he leaned forward, desperately licking and sucking, eager for the taste of his Prey's blood.

The breath of his Prey came in strangled gasps now, and he could hear the fear, feel the fear as his Prey's body shuddered beneath him. His own breathing quickened. His grip on the Knife tightened. Soon, soon he would feel the ultimate ecstasy of his Prey's last breath expelled into his own mouth, as he slid the Knife slowly into its final resting place.

He opened his eyes and let out a harsh sigh. At some time in the course of his vision, he had slumped to the floor and he now sat against the wall, his legs splayed in front of him. He blinked against the light in the hall and wondered what he should do now. He always felt this lethargy after he imagined taking his Prey.

He stood swiftly, decision made. He would go and look at the Knife.


Commander Chakotay, First Officer of the Federation starship USS Voyager, strode along the corridor and entered the turbolift. It had been a long day; he felt tired, drained and all he wanted to do was get to his quarters and sleep.

As the turbolift began to move, he was relieved to find that the restless feeling he had been experiencing as he walked from the Mess Hall began to fade. He frowned to himself; this feeling had been growing on him lately. It had started as a slight sensation of boredom, Voyager was currently travelling through a sparsely inhabited region of the Delta Quadrant, and any inhabited planets they did come across usually contained primitive societies. The situation increased the sense of isolation that every crewmember of Voyager suffered from at times. He knew the tension level of the ship had risen dramatically in the last few weeks, and Neelix, their self-appointed morale officer, was in his element, busily arranging event after event to keep the crew settled. Chakotay smiled to himself as he exited the turbolift; he'd never thought he'd be so thankful for the little Talaxian's presence.

Chakotay entered his quarters and asked for lights. The restlessness he had felt earlier hadn't quite faded completely and, as tired as he was, he didn't want to sleep yet. He went to the replicator, ordered a blend of tea, and sipping the hot brew, sat down on his couch. He sighed; he really just wanted to think about nothing for a while, enjoy a completely blank mind, but he knew it would be impossible. He contemplated trying to meditate and shook his head. He was just too tired.

He leaned his head back against the couch and sighed. Something was nagging at him, something about that feeling he kept experiencing, and immediately his mind began to analyse. Yes, it had started as boredom, yes he was restless but there was something else, somehow he felt... nervous. He sat up again, sipped at his tea and then glared at the wall. Nervous. Why would he feel nervous?

Voyager's current situation was monotonous, yes, but hardly anything to feel nervous about. Perhaps he was over analysing. He sipped his tea and then shook his head, trying to clear his mind. No. Somehow, he knew he was on the right track. He did feel nervous, but not about the ship; this was a more personal feeling. There was a familiarity about this feeling, he had experienced it at times throughout his life, both in Starfleet and the Maquis, and those times were when he had been in some sort of personal danger.

He stood swiftly and began to pace the room. This was ridiculous! What danger could he possibly be in on his own ship, with his own crew, for Gods sake! He felt angry with himself, for allowing the current tedium of their journey to prey on his mind in this fashion, and for allowing it to induce this sort of paranoia in him. The best thing for him to do was just forget this stupidity, and get some obviously much needed sleep.

As Chakotay prepared himself for bed, he tried to ignore the thoughts that swirled in his mind, but he couldn't. He grimaced as he lay back on his bed, and asked for lights out. He needed a distraction. He closed his eyes and stretched luxuriously, trying to relax his body. Chakotay knew he had the perfect distraction waiting for him in his mind and smiled to himself in languorous anticipation. He ran his hands down his body, and sighed in pleasure as his mind began to play through his favourite fantasy.


Lieutenant Tom Paris, Chief Pilot of the Federation starship USS Voyager, leaned back against the leather seat of the 20th century car he was sitting in, and gazed up at the stars twinkling in the Martian sky. Soft, romantic music wafted from the radio and settled into his soul, filling him with a delicious melancholy.

He hadn't used this program in a long time. Once it had been a favourite, used with great success in his chase for love. He smirked to himself, and rolled his head to look at the passenger seat next to him. He felt certain that he had never run this program alone before.

The chase had ended for him years ago. He had found his love only a few months after Voyager's forced journey in the Delta Quadrant began. Found it, but not claimed it. Would he ever claim it? Tom didn't know if he would ever have the courage, or the sheer audacity. For he had chosen the person most impossible to claim he could ever have thought of. He sighed loudly (there was no one to hear after all); sometimes he seriously doubted his sanity.

He could list a hundred reasons that had made him fall in love with Chakotay. He could list a thousand reasons why Chakotay would never fall in love with him, Tom, but predominately there was the fact that Chakotay disliked him, didn't trust him. Sure, they'd negotiated a truce in the last year or so, but that was as far as it went.

Tom leaned forward and snapped off the radio. Most of the time he didn't let the situation get to him too much. He had good friends on Voyager now after all, Harry, B'Elanna, the members of his flight team, and a few others. They were now the family that, in a way, he'd never had. He loved them.

However, at times like this, when the journey went through a slow patch and everyone had too much time to think, he would realize how alone he truly felt. At these times, his desire soared and all he could think about was making love to the Commander, running his hands and his lips over that delicious, velvet skin. Tasting, teasing, torturing that firm body until it writhed in ecstasy beneath him.

Tom shivered and closed his eyes. He'd come here to compose himself, to once again reinforce in his mind how futile it was for him to love Chakotay. Instead he found himself indulging in fantasy. He smirked to himself again; there was nothing wrong with fantasies after all, especially if they involved the sexiest guy in the Delta Quadrant. His smirk became a grin; okay... the universe.

The holodeck doors hissed open and he turned his head to see Harry emerge onto the red landscape, and then pause to look around.

"Hi Tom." Harry smiled and clambered into the car next to him. "So it's parking on Mars. I didn't think you still had this program. Mind if I join you?"

"As long as you don't expect me to kiss you."

"Ha! You should be so lucky."

"Oh Harry, that's not what I hear from Megan Delaney."

Harry turned and glared at Tom in mock anger. "At least I'm kissing somebody."

"Touché, Harry, touché."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, gazing at the stars. Then Harry sighed. "You know, I always found Mars pretty boring."

Tom surveyed the scenery surrounding the car. "You're right Harry. I guess I never really looked before."

"Hmph!" Harry snorted, and then turned in his seat to face Tom. "Hey, so are you going to Corella's birthday party tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Besides Neelix wouldn't letme miss it. He's only reminded me twenty times today! As if I'd forget Corella's birthday."

Ensign Corella Azar was one of Tom's favourite people on Voyager. She came from a race in the Alpha Quadrant known as Vendarans. Vendarans were amongst the first members of the Federation, and were a peaceful and intelligent race, known to have telepathic abilities, though nowhere near as advanced as Vulcans. Corella was slight and dark with the unusual pale green eyes of her race, and her nature was generous and wise, though at times she could seem cold. She was also a brilliant pilot, second only to Tom, and as such was his back up for Alpha shift as well as running Beta shift. She had helped Tom out of many a scrape and he sometimes wondered what his life on Voyager would be like without her.

Tom turned in his seat to look at Harry who was regarding him thoughtfully. "What?"

"Does she still have that crush on you?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The only thing that had ever embarrassed him about his friendship with Corella, had been the realization of her feelings for him, and his own inability to return them.

"Well ... no, I don't think so."

"Did you talk to her?" Harry persisted. God, he hated Harry's persistence sometimes, even though it was this quality that had ensured their friendship.

"Yeah, I did," he answered softly, looking down at his hands. "She took it well. Said she understood and so... we're still friends, thank God."

"Maybe she'd figured it out already."

Tom's eyes were sharp as he glanced at Harry, who was still staring at him steadily. "Figured out what?"

"How you feel about Chakotay, of course."

Tom's heart stopped beating for at least 30 seconds, and he was sure his face must have been drained of blood. Harry reached out a hand and gripped his arm.

"Hey, Tom, it's all right," he said softly. "It's not like it's all over the ship or anything. I just noticed ... that's all. I have to say, I've been wondering why you haven't done anything about it." He shook his head. "That's not like you at all."

Tom finally exhaled in an explosive hiss. "Christ Harry, and what is it exactly, that I should do? Approach a guy who hates me? Contrary to some opinions round here, I've never been that fond of having my face smashed in!"

"He doesn't hate you, Tom!"

"Okay, okay, he barely tolerates me then."

The expression in Harry's dark eyes was wistfully sad and his grip on Tom's arm tightened. "Tom, are you so full of your own self pity that you can't see what's right in front of you?"

Tom's heart seized again and he found himself struggling to speak. "What... what are you talking about, Harry?"

"I'm talking about Chakotay, of course. I can't believe you really think he dislikes you. I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes, and believe me, there's no way that he's even indifferent towards you, let alone disliking you."

Tom stared with disbelief into Harry's eyes. "You can't be serious."

Harry sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair. "For God's sake Tom, I wouldn't joke about something I know means so much to you. As soon as I realized how you felt, I started to watch Chakotay when you were around. It didn't take me long to figure out that he's attracted to you." He held up a hand as Tom opened his mouth to interrupt. "I know that attraction may not be as strong as the feelings you have, but it issomewhere to start."

Tom sat for a moment in silence, thinking over what Harry had just told him. Then he looked up at his friend and the smile that crossed his face was radiant. "Thanks Harry. You must think I'm a real idiot."

Harry smiled back. "No more than usual." After another moment of silence he asked, "So what are you going to do about this, now?"

"Well... I guess I'll have to let him know that I'm interested."

"Tomorrow night at the party would be a good time to start."

Tom grinned at Harry and got out of the car. "Jeez, you sure are pushy these days Harry."

Harry laughed as he followed Tom out of the holodeck. "I'll do anything to not have to sit in this program with you."

"Touché, Harry, touché."